


Butterfly clips

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Smut, M/M, sparkly pink butterfly clips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2170296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So here was Dean, pillow for his brother, half full soup bowl on the night stand, packet of butterfly clips in his hand, pulling Sam’s hair back and pinning it away from his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterfly clips

It had started innocently enough.

Sam was sick; puking up your guts, sweaty, shaky, gross kind of sick. Dean wasn’t sure if he’d caught something, or eaten something, or hell at this point Dean might think he’d been cursed by a witch it was that bad. But Dean would take care of him, and it would pass. There were nyquil and tissue runs, tomato and rice soup made on a hot plate, hot tea that Dean cut up lemons for, because they were antiseptic and really helped sore throats.

Dean knew how to take care of Sammy.

His sasquatch of a brother had long been too big to manhandle and wrap in blankets, and his hair was getting too long for this nonsense. One more time of Sam kneeling in front of the toilet heaving out the saltines he had for dinner, and Dean trying to keep his long hair up and failing because it wasn’t quite long enough to hold back at the nape and kept falling back down, and Dean had found himself standing in unfamiliar territory at the local CVS. The girly aisle, with hair clips and headbands and why the hell did they need so many things to put their hair up. Pukey hair wasn’t fun to deal with, it just dragged it all over Sam’s face and made a goddam mess and if his brother wouldn’t kill Dean for cutting his hair shorter he’d just do that.

But no, he had to be a good brother, and he was maybe kind of concerned about how sick Sam was because it was bad, and he figured doing everything he could to make his brother comfortable had to help with it. So he looked at the plain little silver hair clips but found his hand wandering over to a packet of glittery neon colored butterfly and flower clips.

Ok, so, it had been a long few days and taking care of a sick patient isn’t the most amusing thing. Maybe Dean was a little evil. Maybe.

Later that night after Dean had force fed his brother a meager amount of runny soup in the hopes he could keep it down, Dean was sitting open legged behind Sammy with his brother lightly snoring on his chest. His hair was matted and gross, even though Dean forced him into baths he was sweating and tossing so much in bed that the squeaky clean didn’t last.

So here was Dean, pillow for his brother, half full soup bowl on the night stand, packet of butterfly clips in his hand, pulling Sam’s hair back and pinning it away from his face. Maybe, he was a little twisted for finding it so funny, but hey, he did not cross the line into the inappropriate territory of taking blackmail pictures, so he figured he still had his good brother card in tact.

When Sam started whimpering in his sleep before sitting bolt upright and dashing for the bathroom, Dean heaved himself up and followed to get a wet wash cloth. Sammy was retching into the toilet, and when he surfaced again - sweaty face surrounded by pink butterfly clips - there was not a speck of puke in his hair. Dean passed him a washcloth to wipe off his chin and Sam grunted his appreciation.

After a few more days, whatever Sam had finally passed and they packed up to move on to another motel, Dean grateful he hadn’t caught it too. He never asked what happened to the butterfly clips.

-

The next case they got two towns over, Sam and Dean were getting ready to play FBI agents. Dean was showered and shaved with shoes polished and the dirt cleaned out from under his fingernails. He had his good slacks on, button down left open over the white tank underneath, cleaning his gun while Sam preened in the bathroom.

"C’mon Samantha, aint got all day for you to do your make up."

"I’m shaving. Fuck you."

Dean rolled out a crick in his neck and contemplated that sentence. They hadn’t fooled around since before Sam got sick, he was all sore and drained afterward and not really in the mood. Oh but Dean was. Dean’s ‘mood’ never really died. Standing and knocking on the bathroom door, Dean swung it open, hoping for a shower wet towel draped Sam, because that was a sight to enjoy.

What he got was a shower wet towel draped Sam with shaving cream on half his face, razor poised, and little pink butterfly clips holding his hair off his face.

Dean damn near about fell on the floor laughing.

"Oh my god! You kept those!"

"What, it’s convenient."

Sam bitch faced at him, rolled his broad shoulders and turned back to shaving. Dean whipped out his phone and raised it to snag a blackmail shot cause hey, Sam wasn’t sick anymore so it wasn’t taking advantage. The shot turned into a crooked blurry photo of Sam scowling and tackling him. With clips in his hair and cream on his face. The towel was a lost cause.

"Fuck, Samantha, should I have gotten the ones with little jewels in them, bet that would of made your eyes sparkle."

Dean was in stitches laughing, too busy trying to breath to fight Sam who was pinning him down and fighting the grin spreading on his face.

"You’re an asshole Dean."

“You’re a girl.”

"As if, of the two of us, you’re definitely more the girl."

Sam heaved him up, Dean snagging the towel to wipe the rest of the shaving cream off Sam’s face while he was manhandled back to the bed and tossed down, Sam crawling between his legs and pulling his pants down while Dean shrugged out of his button down and pulled his tank up and off.

It was kind of weird, not having Sam’s hair falling over his belly where his brother was kissing, and the little pink clips sent him into a fit of laughter again.

Dean was sliding his hands idly up and down Sam’s arms while he bent over the bed to rummage through a duffel on the floor, coming back up with a little bottle of lube and kissing the inside of Dean’s thigh. Dean couldn’t stop smiling down at his ridiculously adorable yet somehow still hot brother rocking the butterfly clips between his legs. Course, he’d probably think Sam’d look good in just about anything so long as he was between Dean’s legs.

Sucking a bruise on the vee of Dean’s hips while slipping two slick fingers inside, Sam had his eyes closed while he kissed up Dean’s stomach, his chest, his neck. Pushing up on one hand, working his fingers in with a slow ease he knew would torment Dean, Sam looked down at him, smiling oh so sweetly.

"You sure you’re not the girl?"

"Ah fuck you Sammy."

"No, I think you want me to fuck you."

"Yeah, c’mon."

"You want me to fuck you like a girl."

“Dammit, just - fuck.”

"What’s so bad about being a girl anyway."

“S’not what I mean.”

"C’mon, just say you want to be the girl."

"M’not a girl."

"You spread your legs for me."

"Stop teasing."

Sam only redoubled his effort, finding that spot that made Dean slur his words and rock against Sam’s hands, twisting his fingers to keep steady pressure there and Dean may have started drooling a little.

"Come on. Tell me your my girl."

"Fuck, S’mmy …. Imma girl, ok, m’your girl, fuck…."

Sam unclipped one of the little butterflies from his hair, letting it fall over half his face while the other side was still up, he reached forward and clipped it into Dean’s hair, bending forward to kiss his forehead and cup the side of his face. “My pretty girl.”

Sam was hitching his legs up - finally - damn near bending Dean in half, and he folded his legs over Sam’s shoulders catching the backs of his knees there and leveraging up. Sam gave him what he wanted then, fucking him hard and fast into the mattress with steady hands on his hips and hazel eyes watching him.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and let it roll through him, always happy to surrender to Sam, but he’d never thought of it like this, never thought of himself like, like a girl, and he tried hard not to right then. But he opened his eyes and saw Sam on top of him with his hair still up in the clips and Dean dissolved into a fit of breathy giggles and laughter around his moaning. Sam laughed too, and fucked harder.

They ended up sweaty and tangle limbed curled on the bed trying to attach clips to each other’s nipples, fingers, lips. Dean figured, he might just end up buying the little ones with the jewels too, after all.


End file.
